Taking Notice
by hinklepup
Summary: What happens when an accident at their flat cause the Weasley twins to move back into the Burrow?
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** Just so's you're not confused, there's some things you should know. This is set about two years after the war. However, Fred is still alive, as him being dead would sort of defeat the purpose of the story. Also, because Mrs. Weasley insisted, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are staying at the Burrow. Ginny plays for the Holyhead Harpies, Ron and Harry are aurors, and Hermione works for the DMLE, as JKR stated. I hope you enjoy the story!

"Just...a little...more..." Hermione panted. She could barely breathe and felt a little dizzy, but it was _so close_. "Come _on_, Ginny!"

Ginny met Hermione's gaze in the full-length mirror and made a face. "I'm pulling as hard as I can! Geez!"

The redhead gave a final yank at the laces of Hermione's corset and then stopped, a little out of breath herself. "There. Better?"

"Much." Hermione wheezed slightly, struggling to get a full breath in, but gave a little satisfactory nod as she twirled in front of Ginny's mirror in the corset and her knickers. She paused and glanced back over her shoulder.

"Okay, Gin. Now for the dress."

Ginny groaned, flopping back onto her bed. "Do we _have_ to put the dress on _now_? Your corset took nearly an hour!"

"It's not my fault that you're not strong enough pull it as tight as it needs to be!"

"Hermione, I play chaser for a professional Quidditch team. I think I have strong arm muscles. Your body just doesn't appreciate being squeezed into such a...contraption."

"Well...It's not my fault that the hosts insisted on period dress!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't think they intended for their guests to asphyxiate halfway through the ball from their corsets being too tight. It's a charity event. They want money. They couldn't care less how authentic your costume is as long as you're there and donate your fair share of Galleons."

Hermione gave a small harrumph and turned away from her friend. "Just help me with the dress. Please."

Ginny sighed and slowly pulled herself off the bed, reaching for the offending item in question. "Fiiiiiine."

While Ginny was gathering and sorting out the many layers and laces of Hermione's outfit, Hermione admired herself in the mirror once more. The corset gave her the hourglass figure she'd always wanted, a tiny waist and flaring hips replacing the slighter, more subtle curves she normally had. _I don't look half bad_, Hermione thought. Even her breasts - normally satisfactory B cups - looked better, pushed up to display impressive décolletage.

"Hermioneeee, stop ogling yourself in the mirror and _help me figure this bloody thing out_," Ginny said, snapping Hermione out of her reverie. Blushing, she turned to help her friend.

"What's this?" Ginny asked.

Hermione snapped instantly into lecture mode. "That's called a chemise; it's like a slip. It's worn under the gown, to help skirts keep their shape. It goes under the-" Hermione stopped.

Ginny looked up from her sorting suspiciously. "Under the what?"

Hermione's face was tinged pink. "Under the corset," she said in a tiny voice.

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER. Are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?" Ginny's got dangerously soft.

Hermione nodded, backing away slightly from her friend's increasingly red face.

"Do you mean to tell me, that after an hour of fussing and tugging and straining, we have to undo it and do the whole damn thing over _AGAIN_?"

"Yes..."

Ginny glared at Hermione. Hermione decided it was quite terrifying, almost as bad as that recurring dream she used to have about Snape and the exploding potion.

"I'm...sorry...Ginny?"

"You'd better be," Ginny growled. She stomped over to Hermione, spun her around, and started to untie the corset laces, mumbling incoherently about strained muscles.

A knock sounded on Ginny's bedroom door. "Come in!" she shouted, a tad harshly. Hermione winced at the loud sound so close to her ear.

"What is going _on_ up here?" a familiar voice said as the door creaked open. "It sounds like a heard of elephants and a flock of very shrill birds are-"

Ginny looked up, tugging at the corset strings so hard that Hermione was jerked around. "Stop moving, I have to loosen them! A heard of elephants and a flock of birds are what, Fred?"

Fred stood in the doorway, face turning bright red as he stared at Hermione. "Er...never mind," he muttered quickly, stepping away and shutting the door.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and burst out laughing.

* * *

Fred sat on the steps at the bottom of the staircase, feeling like he was about to die of embarrassment. Why didn't Ginny _warn_ him that Hermione was in her underwear? And such enticing underwear at that... Fred groaned and buried his face in his hands. Why? Why him? Why not George or Bill or Charlie or Percy or even Ron? Why did _he_ have to be the one to walk in on Hermione Granger, the brains of the golden trio, in her knickers?

It wasn't as if he'd never seen a bird in her underwear before; hell, he'd done his fair share of planning and plotting to see just that. But Hermione...Hermione was different. He'd known her forever - she was very nearly a member of the Weasley family, for Merlin's sake! Fred groaned as he remembered the look of mirth on his sister's face as he'd shut the door. There was no way Fred would be able to escape her teasing.

"Should've knocked..." he mumbled into his hands.

"What's that?" a voice next to him asked.

Fred looked up to see his twin sitting beside him. "Nothing," he said hurriedly, "Nothing at all."

George raised an eyebrow. "Well then," he said, "I don't supposed you'd know why Miss Granger and our sister are laughing so hard I can hear them from our room?"

Fred grimaced. "Erm...Well...I maybe sorta kinda saw Hermione in her underwear on accident."

George looked skeptical. "And...?"

Fred felt his face turning red again. "Ok...I saw Hermione in a corset. And blushed. And made a hasty retreat out of the room."

George tried and failed to hide a snigger behind his hand. Fred shoved him. "Aw, shut up. You would've done it too."

"I would not!" George looked indignant. "Unlike you, _I_ can handle myself around women."

"Yeah, like you can handle yourself around Katie Bell."

George turned pink. "Anyway," he said hastily, "What is our dear darling bookworm hiding under her ever-so-modest clothing?"

"I don't know, George, don't you find it a little strange to be talking about Hermione like this? I mean, she's been practically family for ages..."

George gave Fred a look. "Come on. Spill."

Fred sighed, thinking back to the fleeting seconds in Ginny's room. "Well...she's slender-ish, with quite obnoxious curves - although I guess that'll be the corset - and nice legs and...and...breasts," he finished lamely.

"That was the most eloquent description I have ever heard, brother mine," said George sarcastically. He braced his hand on his twin's shoulder and stood. "Now, unless you have any more fantastical details that you happened to have committed to memory, I'm going to Apparate back to our flat - or what's left of it - and see what else I can salvage. We should really look into extra reinforcements on the walls of our lab..." With a crack, George disappeared.

With a sigh, Fred stood to follow, his mind drifting to dark honey-colored hair spilling over curves tightly outlined in white before he forced himself to focus on the now soot-blackened interior of his and George's living room.

* * *

After nearly three hours of preparation - during which Hermione and Ginny belatedly realized that the whole process could be done magically - Hermione found herself standing in the kitchen of the Burrow, wearing a Victorian dress much the same color of the dress robes she'd worn to the Yule Ball all those years ago. Ginny had styled Hermione's hair perfectly, curling it and pulling it up into an elegant knot on top of Hermione's head.

Mrs. Weasley couldn't get enough.

"Hermione, dear, you look wonderful! There won't be a boy at that ball who won't fall in love with you!"

Hermione blushed. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly?" Mrs. Weasley scolded. "Now, do you have everything? Wouldn't want to be late."

"Yes, Molly."

"Good. Have a good time, and try not to be home too late." Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a hug.

"Mum!" Ginny said. "Be careful, you're going to crush her dress!"

"It's alright, Gin," Hermione said, trying not to smile.

Ginny pouted. "But, 'Mione, all my hard work..."

They were interrupted by a resounding crash that seemed to shake the house; a cloud of green smoke came wafting down the staircase soon after. The three witches stood in stunned silence as someone thundered down the stairs, coughing wildly. It was only when two identical heads of red hair hazily came into view that Mrs. Weasley seemed to wake up.

"FREDERICK GIDEON AND GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY!"

The twins froze for a moment, as if dreading the reception at the bottom, before carefully coming down the last few steps.

"Yes, Mum?" Fred asked, with an innocent expression on his face. His mother simply glared. George took his twin's elbow and slowly started scooting them to the side.

"Hermione!" he said with a smile, "You look absolutely ravishing! Delightedly delectable! Simply stunning! What're you all dressed up for?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Mrs. Weasley beat her to it. "Hermione is going to a charity ball promoting the rights of werewolves and house elves and other beings classified as part or non-human," she said proudly, before narrowing her eyes. "Now. Would you like to tell me exactly _what_ you are doing?"

The twins stopped and looked at each other.

"Well..." Fred started, "We were...just moving some stuff in. From our flat."

"And what sort of stuff would that be?"

"Um...experimental stuff?" said George, looking hopeful.

"I see. And what's the rule about Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products?"

Fred and George hung their heads, and Hermione stifled a giggle at seeing them reduced to their sixteen-year-old selves. "No experimenting in the house," they chorused.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Now clean up this smoke and go fix whatever it is that you did."

"Yes, Mum."

The twins turned and thundered back up the stairs, but not before winking cheekily at Hermione.

"Have fun, Hermione!" one yelled.

"But not _too_ much fun!" the other added. "That's what _we're_ for!" A door upstairs slammed, and soon the green smoke that was spilling down the staircase had disappeared.

Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley stood in silence for a few seconds._ Well_, Hermione thought, _things are certainly going to be lively with the twins living here again. It's a good thing that that smoke didn't ruin my dress..._

"Oh!" she said suddenly, "I'm going to be late!" And with two hurried hugs goodbye from Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione Disapparated with a small pop.

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning, and Fred was still awake. Since he and George would be staying at the Burrow indefinitely, they'd decided to expand their room, adding a small work space. While the Undetectable Expansion Charms had been easy, warding the new workroom against explosions and other magical mishaps was not. Fred was in the middle of casting a tricky little spell to fireproof the room when he heard a creak on the stairs, followed by a soft "Damn!" Someone was trying their best to sneak quietly up to bed, and doing a right good job of it, too. Fred wondered who it was.

George had left to go on a date with Katie Bell hours ago, and had owled around midnight to say he was sleeping over, so it couldn't be him. Ron had gone to sleep shortly after getting back from the auror office with Harry at one, and Harry had already snuck down the stairs from Percy's old room to snuggle up in bed with Ginny. Fred shuddered lightly at the thought of his baby sister and Harry Potter doing...stuff...and hoped for Harry's sake that he wasn't around when Ron finally figured it out. George, Ron, Harry, Ginny...Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already gone to bed and none of the eldest Weasley brothers were visiting. Which left...Hermione.

Fred grinned as he heard the muffled thud of a stubbed toe, and Hermione's resulting swears. He'd learned long ago that she wasn't as opposed to rule-breaking and swearing as she made out to be. As the soft - now slightly limping - footsteps passed the landing by the twins' room, Fred stuck his head out the door.

"Have a good time, Granger?" he called.

Hermione jumped - an impressive feat, considering the dress she was wearing - and spun around.

"Fred!" she hissed, "Be quiet! You're going to wake everybody up!"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Ginny and Harry are wrapped up in their own little world, Ron is snoring away upstairs, and there's been a Silencing Charm on Mum and Dad's door for years. No one is going to wake up from a little bit of conversation."

Hermione stuck out her tongue. "In that case," she said in a normal voice, "I had a wonderful time. However, I really, _really_, need to get out of this dress. Goodnight, Fred." And, for some reason taking a deep breath, she continued her way up the stairs.

Fred stared at Hermione's back for a few seconds before retreating back inside his room. Her dress, he decided, was very pretty, although he didn't see how she could stand to move around in it. So poofy. Fred had just started figuring out what combination of spells was needed to prevent something like that evening's cloud of smoke from escaping into the hall again when there was a soft knock on his door.

He opened it to find Hermione, slightly out of breath and blushing a little.

"How may I be of service?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione blushed deeper. "I can't get out of my dress."

"So go ask Ginny."

"Harry's in there, and they've put one of your Privacy Protection Locks on the door. I don't fancy getting stunned and having my skin turned blue trying to open it."

Fred smirked. "I take it you've made the mistake of trying to open Ginny's door at night before?"

Hermione glared at him. "Just help me out of this dress." Fred opened the door to let her into the room. Hermione stepped in and stopped as she saw the previously non-existent door to the workroom.

"Making some modifications, are we?"

Fred just shrugged. "So how do you undo this?"

Hermione turned so her back was facing him. "The spell to unlace it is _laxo_."

Fred unlaced the dress, and Hermione shrugged it off, sighing as the heavy weight disappeared. Then she started pulling off her underskirts.

"Um, Hermione?" Fred asked, scratching behind his ear. "What are you doing?"

Hermione shot him an incredulous look over her shoulder. "I'm not about to wear this corset to bed, Fred." She pulled off the last of her skirts, standing before him in some sort of loose nightgown thing that was covered by the corset. Fred was reminded of the scene he'd walked in on in Ginny's room earlier and forced the image of an underwear-clad Hermione out of his head.

"Oh," he said. He stared at her impossibly tiny waist, thinking that he could almost fit both hands around it. It was a wonder Hermione was even breathing properly.

"Come _on_, Fred!"

"_Laxo_," Fred said, and Hermione's corset unlaced with a slithering sound. She took in a deep breath and stretched, slouching a little now that she wasn't being forced to stand up straight. The thought crossed Fred's mind that he liked Hermione without the corset better; it looked more natural. Hermione pulled the corset off and for a disoriented moment Fred thought she was reaching down to take the nightgown-looking thing off as well, but she was simply bending down to gather her various items of clothing.

Skirts and corset and dress in hand, Hermione turned to go. "Goodnight, Fred!" she called over her shoulder. Fred waved goodbye and shut the door before returning to warding his workroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione woke up early, like normal, even though it was a Sunday. Ron and Harry were constantly amazed; they didn't believe that somebody would actually _want_ to get up when sleep could be had. _But I like starting the day when the day actually _starts, Hermione thought as she pulled on a t-shirt and jeans. _Ron and Harry always waste half the day sleeping_. She stretched, leaning down to touch her toes before leaving Bill and Charlie's old room - now hers - in favor of the kitchen.

It had become habit to cook breakfast for the rest of the Weasleys as well as herself; she was always the first one awake on Sunday mornings. Humming lightly, Hermione reached into the cooling shelf to retrieve a carton of eggs, then searched the other cupboards for a pan and whisk. She could, of course, cook magically, but Hermione liked preparing food by hand; it was comforting. After the eggs were done, she started on toast.

At eight o'clock sharp, Mr. Weasley made his way downstairs, clad in pajamas and slippers.

"Morning, Hermione," he said, before loading his plate.

Hermione smiled as she poured him a cup of orange juice. "Good morning."

Mrs. Weasley came downstairs not long after, dressed for the day. Soon the heads of the Weasley family and Hermione were all sitting at the end of the long table, eating breakfast in companionable silence. Hermione loved Sundays.

She was just thinking how nice it was that there was peace and quiet for a few hours when the loud crack of Apparition was heard upstairs, shortly followed by a slightly louder thump and a muffled yell.

Mr. Weasley ran a hand over his face. "I forgot how noisy the twins are at all hours of the day and night."

Mrs. Weasley kissed his cheek in consolation on her way to get some more juice. "At least they're awake. How Ginny, Ron, and Harry manage to sleep so long I'll never know."

"Oh, I don't think Harry and Ginny are necessarily _sleeping_," a voice muttered. Hermione snorted and turned to find George standing at the foot of the staircase, wearing the same clothes as the day before and sporting a bad case of bedhead.

"What's that, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said absently.

"Oh, nothing, Mum," George replied cheerfully, going to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Mrs. Weasley stood, clearing away her dishes, and George took her seat. "Make sure you save some breakfast for the others."

"I know, Mum. I will," George said through a mouthful of eggs. He rolled his eyes at Hermione, and she pretended not to notice.

"Well, I'm off," Mrs. Weasley said. "Does anyone need anything from Diagon Alley?"

Hermione, George, and Mr. Weasley shook their heads, and Mrs. Weasley Disapparated with a small pop.

Soon after, Mr. Weasley announced that he had better be going as well - he'd gotten an emergency call from work - and headed upstairs to get ready.

Hermione was just about to ask George where he'd been the night before, when more shouting and thumping could be heard. Hermione looked up at the ceiling in puzzlement, then at George. He seemed entirely focused on eating his breakfast.

Hermione looked over at the sound of someone hurriedly coming down the stairs to see a chuckling Mr. Weasley trying to put his cloak on as he walked. He stopped, glanced at George, and chuckled again before stepping into the living room. Not long after, Hermione heard the _woosh _that accompanied travel by floo powder.

No sooner had Mr. Weasley left, than someone else could be heard racing down the stairs. Hermione caught George's eye and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, hastily stuffing the last bit of eggs into his mouth before grabbing his plate and practically running to the sink. Just as whoever was coming down the stairs reached the bottom, George Apparated away.

Hermione turned to see Fred, soaking wet, glowering at the place where his twin had been standing only moments before.

"He walked in right as I was about to finish fireproofing the workroom, and thought it would be funny to scare me," Fred said. "Now it's raining in our room and I bloody can't get it to stop."

Hermione hid her smile by taking a drink of orange juice. She waved her wand and Fred's clothes immediately became dry.

"Thanks," Fred said, reaching over and scooping up a piece of toast.

"Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Nope. There's a few boxes of Portable Swamp 2.0 and Wet-Start Whizbangs that I have to rescue before my Impervius Charm wears down." Fred turned and sprinted up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Hermione found herself absentmindedly staring at his retreating back, before she shook herself awake and followed him. She did _not_ want to find out what a house full of swamp and fireworks was like; it had been bad enough at Hogwarts, and Hogwarts was _huge_.

* * *

Fred returned to his and George's room to find that quite a bit of swamp had already leaked out onto the floor. Panicking, he pulled out his wand.

"_Lama Defluo Totalum_!"

The swamp shrunk, but didn't disappear completely; him and George still hadn't quite figured out how to clean the new version up.

"_Evanesco_!"

The swamp didn't budge.

"_Scourgify_!"

Still nothing.

Already completely soaked, Fred cast extra Impervius Charms at the undamaged boxes of Whizbangs and Portable Swamp before turning his attention to the ceiling. If anything, the rain seemed to be falling harder; what had started out as a light shower was now a downpour. _With my luck, it'll be lightning-ing soon_, Fred thought.

"_Finite Incantatem_!"

Fred turned at the shrill incantation to find Hermione standing just outside the door, trying to avoid getting wet.

"Because I couldn't possibly have thought of that myself," he called out sarcastically. "If you're going to help, you might as well come inside." When Hermione seemed reluctant, Fred reached out and pulled her into the room. She stumbled a little, and he moved to catch her so she wouldn't faceplant into the swamp. The result was an awkward sort of hug; Hermione's arms were pinned to her sides and her face was smushed into Fred's shoulder. Fred could feel her heartbeat thrumming away through her shirt. _Have I ever given Hermione a proper hug before?_

The rumble of thunder brought Fred back to his senses, and he quickly let Hermione - now just as soaking wet as himself - go, righting her and patting her on the shoulder. She looked apprehensively at the ceiling as another, louder, peal of thunder was heard. Fred noticed that her once-loose t-shirt was now very...clingy...and decided that, yes, she looked _much_ nicer without the corset.

The rain was now coming down so hard that the constant roar of it was making his ears hurt; the increasing volume of the thunder wasn't exactly helping, either.

"Fred!" Hermione yelled, pushing her sopping hair out of her eyes, "What kind of spell were you casting?"

"I was experimenting!" he bellowed back. "It was supposed to start raining in the workshop if something magically caught on fire and we couldn't extinguish it in time!"

Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy. "It was supposed to start _what_? Why didn't you just fireproof the walls or something?"

Fred couldn't think of a reason, so he stuck his tongue out. "It seemed like a good idea at the time!"

A rumble of thunder sounded right as Hermione started to speak, drowning out her words.

"What?" Fred yelled, "I can't hear you!"

Hermione leaned in so that her lips were brushing Fred's ear. "Did you ever think," she said, "Of how to get it to stop once the fire went out?"

Fred looked at her in confusion. Hermione stared pointedly back. Finally, realization dawned. Fred bent down slightly, putting his mouth next to Hermione's ear so he wouldn't have to yell. "The rain is supposed to stop _when_ the fire goes out, but-"

Hermione looked up at him, a smile on her face. "But there _isn't a fire_! Right, then..._Incendio_!" she cried. Flames shot from her wand, quickly extinguished in the downpour. As soon as the flames disappeared, the rain stopped, leaving only the echo of a last clap of thunder.

Hermione turned slightly pink, suddenly all too aware without the distraction of rain and thunder of how close Fred was, of his shirt clinging to his chest and the heat of his body. She'd never been so close to this particular Weasley brother - or his twin, for that matter - for more than a second or two; he was always bouncing around, in and out the door, on the way to his next prank or running away from the repercussions of his most recent one.

And he'd certainly never touched her.

Fred laughed in delight when the rain stopped, pulling Hermione close and planting a solid kiss on her head. "You," he said, "Are bloody brilliant!"

In the split second where Fred's lips touched the top of her head, Hermione thought about the day before, when Fred had seen her in her underwear not once, but _twice_, and blushed deeper. She'd thought nothing of it at the time, except to have a laugh with Ginny, but now...

"What," said a third voice, "The _bloody hell_ is going on?"

Fred and Hermione stopped their celebrations to find Ron standing just outside the doorway. It was obvious he'd just gotten up; his hair was in disarray, his pajamas wrinkled. He did _not_ look happy.

"I can ignore loud noises, and I can ignore yelling, but how am I supposed to sleep with a bloody _thunderstorm_ inside the house? Merlin's pants, could ya keep it down a little?"

"That's two 'bloodies,'" Fred whispered in Hermione's ear. "I'm betting there's at least three more coming."

Hermione unobtrusively stepped on Fred's foot to get him to shut up. An angry Ron in the morning meant an angry Ron all day, and she didn't want to deal with that. "Sorry, Ron," she said. It was just a malfunctioning spell. Go back to sleep."

"You bloody well bet I will." Ron turned and trudged tiredly up the stairs.

"You know," Hermione said, turning to Fred, "That was only three times he used the word 'bloody,' not five."

Fred had just opened his mouth to respond when a strangled yell echoed down the stairs, followed by Ron's voice.

"BLOODY HELL!"

Fred smirked. "That's four. And I'm guessing that dear ickle Ronniekins caught Harry leaving Ginny's room, so there'll be more."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Fred and began drying off the walls, ceiling, and floor. Fred silently followed suit as the pair listened to the argument of epic proportions that was unfolding above them.

"...and I am bloody well over seventeen, Ronald!"

"You. Are. My. Baby. Sister! I can't let you just go sleeping around with some bloke-"

"That 'bloke' is Harry Potter, your best friend!"

"Even if he is bloody Harry Potter, I don't care! You just wait until Mum finds out about this..."

The argument deteriorated into scuffling noises and the sound of spells, ending when Ginny finally cast a Bat Bogey Hex before slamming the door to her room, leaving Ron to deal with the effects of the curse by himself. Fred and Hermione heard muffled footsteps approaching Ginny's door.

"Erm..Ron...D'you want help with that?"

Harry cast a muffled counterspell and Ron, now free of attacking bogies, began to rant at his best friend.

"Well," Fred said, "That was five coherent 'bloodies,' and it sounds like Harry is getting a lot more. I do believe that _I _have won the bet."

Hermione looked up from the floor, where she was trying - and failing - to clean up the swamp. "You what? But I didn't bet you anything!"

Fred smirked. "So? That just means that _I_ get to choose the form of payment."

"Fine," Hermione said. Fred was surprised; he'd expected her to protest. "How much do I owe you? A few sickles? A galleon?"

"Oh no no, Miss Granger. That's _boring_. No, you owe me a dare."

"A _what_?"

"A dare. And you _have_ to do it."

Hermione grumbled to herself, but nodded. Stupid Fred Weasley with his stupid warm body and stupid charm. _I am definitely going to regret this._

* * *

Lunch was a quiet affair, with Ron brooding, Harry and Ginny making faces at him over their sandwiches, Fred still trying to clean up the swamp, and Hermione trying to figure out exactly what Fred Weasley might dare her to do. She was not liking the options her mind came up with.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to take note of the lack of lunchtime conversation, but didn't say anything. She'd come home to find Ron sitting on the stairs in between Hermione and Ginny's rooms, a fresh batch of Bogeys attacking his face and a Silencing Charm cast on him for good measure. After the curse and the charm had been reversed, Ron had stormed outside, spending the morning practicing his Wronski Feint.

Ginny had just collapsed into a fit of giggles at Harry's impression of Ron's face when a loud _crack_ came from the living room. George strode into the kitchen, wearing the magenta robes of the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes staff.

"Afternoon, Mum!" he called, as he rushed upstairs. A few minutes later he came back down in normal clothes. Fred, now wearing the work robes, followed him.

"I'm off, everyone!" Fred called cheerily. "I'll see you all at dinner. Have fun cleaning up the swamp, George!"

"What?" George called, as Fred Disapparated. "What swamp? Oi!" But Fred was already gone. George turned to the occupants of the table.

"What swamp?" he asked.

Hermione, Ginny, and Harry put on innocent expressions and shrugged their shoulders. They had spent the morning trying to get rid of the swamp, but nothing seemed to work.

George turned to Ron, who was single-mindedly eating his second sandwich.

"Ron," George said, in a too-nice voice, "Do _you_ know what swamp my dearest darling brother was talking about?"

Ron looked up, bewildered. "Well that's the one in your room, innit?"

George paled slightly. "In our...room?"

Ron nodded, taking another bite.

George turned and ran up the stairs. They could hear his frustrated yell at the state of the twins' room from the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Fred grunted as he set down the last of the boxes just inside the door of his and George's makeshift workshop. They'd spent the afternoon carting armfuls upon armfuls of prototypes and testing materials, all while avoiding the disapproving stare of their mother. Now that everything was finally in its place, it looked like the workshop needed to be expanded again. Joy.

George popped his head through the door. "Freddie! Mum says it's time for dinner!"

"I'll be down in a sec."

Fred scrubbed his hands over his eyes as his twin's footsteps faded away. _Merlin, I'm tired. What I _really _need after dinner is a nice, long-_

"Fred? Mrs. Weasley says it's time for dinner." Harry's head poked its way through the doorway. "Woah, that's a lot of boxes. Do you need any help?"

"No, Harry, I'm fine. I'll be down soon."

"Ok!"

Harry certainly seemed chipper, considering the fact that Ron was still threatening to tell his mother about Harry's nightly forays into Ginny's room. But, Fred supposed, with Harry and Ginny both being of age, there wasn't much his mother could do except give them a brief but embarrassing talking-to.

"Fred?" It was a female voice this time. "Mrs. Weasley just called everyone down for-"

"I _know_, Hermione."

"Oh."

Fred sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired, is all."

Hermione took a few steps into the room, and Fred felt a tentative, soothing hand on his shoulder. "I understand," Hermione said. "But I know something that might cheer you up..."

"And what, exactly, might that be?"

Hermione tugged at Fred's arm. "Well why don't you come downstairs, silly, and find out for yourself!"

"The things I do for you," Fred grumbled good-naturedly, slinging his arm over her shoulders. He would have liked to have kept it there, but the stairs - and the doorway - seemed to only be made for one and a quarter of a person. Pity, really.

Hermione felt a little sad when Fred withdrew his arm after only a few moments. _Why did he put it there? Why did he take it off? Does he not want anyone else to see? Stop worrying so much, Hermione_, she chided herself. _It doesn't matter._

"Are you coming?" Fred asked, and Hermione realized that she'd stopped walking, lost in thought. She felt her redden slightly as she joined Fred, following him down to the kitchen.

"Fred!" a deep voice called as the pair came into view, "Hermione!"

"Charlie!" Fred ran around the table to greet his older brother. Charlie stood, grasping Fred's hand before pulling him into a hug. "How're the dragons?"

"Dangerous as ever. I've got some nice, shiny new scars," Charlie said, winking at Hermione. For the second time that night, Hermione felt her face heat up. She turned to hide her blush, sitting next to Ginny as Charlie lifted his sleeve to display yet another impressive burn.

"This is actually why I'm visiting tonight," he said, gesturing at the shiny strip of flesh. "I left my elbow-length gloves in my old room. I bought new ones to replace them, but, well, this happened." Charlie sat down across from Hermione. "Sorry to be intruding into your bedroom," he said with another wink.

"It's fine," Hermione said in a small voice. She'd never quite gotten used to Charlie; he was an outright ladies-man, attractive despite his various burns. His habit of flirting with her had rather gotten in the way of their having a decent conversation in years past.

Fred took the chair on Hermione's other side, and Mrs. Weasley began passing around the potatoes. A festive spirit was in the air as the family chattered, noisier and more boisterous than usual with the addition of children who had long since moved out of the house. Soon dinner was over, dessert had been served, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed, and the rest were all sitting around the table, nursing half-empty glasses of butterbeer or mulled mead.

"I remember," Charlie said, "That when the twins were not even four years old they set off their first explosion." He sighed. "Ahhhh, those were the good 'ole days."

Ginny snorted; she'd heard the story many times before.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

George set his glass of mead down with a _thunk_. "Well," he said, slurring slightly, "Me an' Fred were in the garden, ya know, and Dad was in his shed."

"It was a Thursday," Charlie interjected. George nodded his head seriously.

"Right. Right you are. Thursday. But anywhos, Fred and I - or is it Fred an' me? Or me an' Fred? - oh, well, _we_ wanted to see what dear 'ole Dad was up to. So we go into the shed, right, an' there's Dad, sitting on his workbench, fiddling with a - with a watchukullum - a lighting bulb. The kind that runs on eckletricksity." He paused and looked around as if making sure everyone understood.

"Right. Well we watched and watched and Dad lit the lighting bulbs up with magic. It was like a _lumos_ in a glass jar. Like fireflies! Yeah, like fireflies. So Fred an' I, we sneak back out into the garden, pretend to watch old Charlie here-" George patted Charlie on the shoulder - "play Quidditch with Bill an' Percy. Only we were waiting, see, waiting for Dad to leave the shed." George stopped again, and everyone nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Right. So Dad leaves the shed, doesn't lock it up, of course, so Dad leaves the shed unlocked, and me an' Fred tippity-toe inside. We get to the lighting bulbs, but of course they aren't glowing, 'cuz they haven't got no magic in them. So we decide to make them glow.

"I grab one and Fred grabs another, an' we both grab each other's hands. Then we sit on th' floor, holding hands right close like, an' we concentrate. Hard. An' we concentrate and concentrate and concentrate an' it feels like bloody _hours_, but then there's a flicker of light. An' we get all excited, ya know, 'cuz it's _magic_, we're doing _magic_, an' then all of a sudden BOOM!" George slammed his hands on the table, making everyone jump, "Our lighting bulbs blow up. Sent Mum into a right state, mind."

Ron, started laughing, then George joined in, and soon both brothers were laughing so hard they could barely breathe, leaning together to stay upright. Finally they stopped, collapsing in a tangle of limbs on the floor.

"Ya know," Ron said seriously, trying and nearly failing to help George to his feet, "I reckon Dad's still got some of those lighting bulb thingies." He and George stared at each other for a moment before turning as one and going out the back door into the garden.

Fred tsk'd. "They never could hold their liquor," he said to no one in particular. Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Charlie all nodded their heads in agreement.

After a beat of silence Charlie stretched, reaching his hands behind his head before standing swiftly. "Well," he said, emptying his half-glass of mead into the sink, "It's getting late. I guess I'll be getting my gloves and going." He gave Fred and Ginny hugs, then shook Harry's hand. "Hermione," he said with a wink, "always a pleasure."

As they watched Charlie climb the stairs, Fred leaned in to whisper in Hermione's ear. "I know what your dare is."

Hermione cringed a little inside, all of the possibilities swirling through her head. "And what might that be?" she whispered back.

"Why, it's simple. You're going to go seduce Charlie."

"I'm _WHAT?_" Hermione screeched. Ginny and Harry looked up from their conversation, confused, before turning back to each other. "I'm _what_?" Hermione repeated, softer.

Fred was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "You heard me. You have ten minutes to seduce Charlie." He gave her a little shove. "Go on. I'll be up when your time's run out, and I've already started counting."

_I _did_ decide to play his game_, Hermione thought as she slowly stood. _Well, why not? This could be interesting._ And with a smile and a wink at Fred, she headed upstairs.

Hermione paused outside the door to her room; she could hear Charlie humming to himself inside. For a moment she thought about giving up, _not_ embarrassing herself, and going back downstairs. However, the warm buzz of butterbeer bolstered her spirits. Besides, she'd never hear the end of it from Fred if she didn't do it. Hermione took a deep breath, and stepped into the room.

Charlie was standing on his toes, rummaging around the top shelf of the closet, the shelf where everything he and Bill had left behind was stored. All of his muscles were straining to hold the pose, and Hermione could see each and every one of them through the tight-fitting shirt and pants he wore. _He does have a rather nice body_...

"Charlie?" she said softly.

Charlie stopped humming and turned around, a pair of black gloves in his hand. "What's up, Hermione?"

"I've been meaning to...talk to you about something."

Charlie smiled. "This wouldn't be about the case for dragon rights, now, would it? Henshaw has already been down to the reserve to see that-"

"No," Hermione interrupted, taking a step closer, "It isn't that. It's...not work related." Another step closer.

"Oh?" Charlie asked, his initial look of confusion melting into something...else...as Hermione took yet another step.

"Mmhm," she nodded, running her hands up and down his arms. She could smell his cologne now, spicy and foreign, so unlike Fred's.

Charlie's arms slowly circled Hermione's waist, drawing her closer. "And what might that be?" he asked, his mouth inches away from her own.

Hermione curled a hand around the nape of Charlie's neck, pulling his head down until his lips met her own. He didn't pull away; he actually kissed her back, holding her flush against him. It had been awhile since Hermione had been kissed - the last time had been Ron at the Battle of Hogwarts - and she was quite enjoying it. Or rather, she was trying to. While she wound her arms around Charlie's neck and opened her mouth to grant his tongue access, her mind would not stop comparing Charlie to Fred.

Charlie was shorter, more muscular. He was closer to Hermione's height, but she found herself wishing for someone taller, for the scent of peppermint, for a certain pair of arms, for a sharp-witted tongue...

But Charlie was doing something sinfully delicious with _his_ tongue, and in a minute Hermione was gone. All she could feel were Charlie's lips against hers, the heat of his chest, the feel of his hands pressing into the small of her back, one playing with the hem of her shirt. She moaned, and felt him smile in response.

Charlie's lips ghosted along Hermione's jaw and she felt herself automatically tilt her head back. _Merlin, that feels good. _His lips had just touched her neck, when the bedroom door opened.

"Well what have we here?"

Hermione froze.

"_Fred_," Charlie hissed, "I'm sort of _in the middle of something_."

Hermione realized exactly how they were standing, and quickly took a step back. Dare or not, it was embarrassing. She turned to face Fred and saw a shadow pass over his face before he grinned and winked.

"Carry on" he said, before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

As Fred left, Hermione felt the overwhelming need to apologize.

* * *

Fred shut Hermione's door - maybe a little too hard - and trudged back down the stairs. He'd known what Hermione was doing up there, had expected to walk in on her and Charlie doing...things...and yet..._And yet the moment I saw them together I felt like I couldn't breathe, _he thought. _Wonderful. And she's probably all enamored with him now too, probably won't be able to keep her hands off of him. Their wedding will probably be the next one I attend and it'll be all. My. Bloody. Fault!_ Fred jerked open the door to his room and flopped onto his bed, punching the pillow a couple of times for good measure.

_I dare you to seduce Charlie, my ass. I didn't expect her to go _that_ far_! _Merlin, the way she _looked_, eyes closed and head thrown back..._I _want to be the one to do that. It should be _me. _Not him._

Fred closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, thoughts of chestnut-colored hair and soft skin floating through his head.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes as her alarm blared. It was just too _early_; for the first time in years, she wanted to go back to sleep. However, when she recalled the events of the night before, she found she was as awake as she could be.

"Bloody stupid Fred with his bloody stupid dares," she mumbled as she got out of bed.

After Fred's intrusion the night before, Hermione had spent nearly an hour convincing Charlie to go home. It hadn't helped that he kept interrupting her with a kiss, or drawing her close, or tucking her hair behind her ear. She'd finally managed to send him off around two in the morning, and even then only after she'd agreed to visit sometime.

_This is going to turn into a bloody mess_, Hermione thought as she stepped into the shower. _I really, _really, _hope that Charlie isn't looking for a serious relationship._

Hermione walked into the kitchen to find rose petals scattered everywhere, and for a wild minute she thought that Charlie hadn't actually gone back to Romania. That is, she thought that until a very frazzled Harry all but tackled her, dragging her into the living room.

"Harry? What's going on?"

Harry tried to straighten his robes - his very nice-looking dress robes, Hermione noted curiously - but only succeeded in pulling them further askew. His hair looked even messier than normal, which was probably because he kept running his hands through it. He looked at Hermione, opened his mouth to reply, and promptly shut it.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked as she reached out and set Harry's robes to rights.

"Yes- yes, I'm- I'm fine," Harry said nervously.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Then would you like to tell me what's going on?"

"Ah. Yes, that. Erm, Well..." Harry lifted up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and squinched his eyes shut. "I'msortofproposingtoGinnythismorning."

"You're...what?" Hermione tried not to laugh.

Harry took a deep breath. "Proposing," he said, "To Ginny. This morning. So I'd really appreciate it if you ate breakfast elsewhere."

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione said with a smile, "And don't worry. You'll be fine."

Harry nodded and went back into the kitchen, muttering about croissants and butter.

Hermione trudged back upstairs to fetch a few extra sickles for breakfast.

* * *

Fred awoke to the sound of Ron's snoring. George and Ron, after having some sort of mishap involving Christmas lights and fireflies, had both come back to the twins' room the night before. Fred pulled a face at his sleeping brothers. It looked like he would be the one opening the shop today instead of George. _I wonder if I should wake Ron up for work..._Fred grinned and waved his wand, squirting Ron in the face with a jet of ice-cold water. Humming satisfactorily at his brother's strangled yell, Fred got dressed and grabbed the magenta robes that were his work uniform.

Fred had just finished pulling on his robes, reaching the bottom stair of the staircase, when a small, soft hand grabbed his and pulled him forcefully to the side. He was just about to ask Hermione what _exactly_ she thought she was doing, especially since she had seemed so happy with Charlie the night before, when she made a _shush_ing motion.

"Don't go in there," Hermione whispered, "Harry's planning on proposing to Ginny this morning."

Fred was less focused on the news of his little sister's impending engagement and more concerned with the fact that Hermione's hand was still in his.

"Come on," she said, tugging him towards the fireplace, "You can eat breakfast with me."


	4. Chapter 4

Fred returned home that evening to find his mother cooking enough dinner for at least sixty or seventy people.

"We're having an engagement party!" she exclaimed when Fred entered the kitchen. "Harry proposed to Ginny just this morning, can you believe it? My little girl is getting married!"

Fred nodded and tried to slip unobtrusively closer to a basket of rolls that was sitting on the counter as his mother turned to tend to a pot of soup sitting on the stove.

"Well, that's Bill, Ginny, and Percy all settled down, and of course George is dating Katie. Merlin knows when Charlie will find somebody; why he chooses to live on that reserve in the middle of nowhere, I'll never know. But, if it makes him happy."

Fred had reached the basket now, and slowly stretched out a hand to grab a roll. Mrs. Weasley turned around suddenly, waving a ladle, and Fred quickly snatched his hand back.

"And _you_," she said, jabbing the ladle at him, "What about you and Angelina? I haven't heard from her in such a long time! For awhile there, I was thinking that maybe you two would..." she trailed off, looking hopefully at Fred.

Fred made a face. "Mum, Angie and I dated for _three weeks_. She's like my sister; it was gross. She's going out with Oliver now."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley said, and turned back to stir the soup. Fred took his chance, grabbing a roll and walking quickly to the stairs.

"Be down by seven!" Mrs. Weasley called. "Make sure you dress nice! And for Merlin's sake, Fred, _no pranks_!"

Fred waved his hand back down the stairs at his mother and continued up to his room, stuffing the stolen roll in his mouth.

* * *

Hermione's smile felt frozen onto her face. Her head ached, her feet hurt, the party had been going on for _hours_, and all she really wanted to do was go inside, climb the stairs to her bedroom, and go to sleep. It had been a very long day at work - although breakfast with Fred had certainly been nice; she couldn't remember ever having such a long _conversation_ with him - and although Hermione was happy for Harry and Ginny, she wished that they would just send everybody home already.

Harry and Ginny were starting to look a little worn out, too, she noticed. However, they were still basking in the glow of a newly-engaged couple, caught up in the happiness of being with each other. Hermione's eyes slid over to the massive tent on the lawn, where Mrs. Weasley was holding court. She seemed almost as happy as Harry and Ginny, talking away to poor Professor Flitwick, who had only had the misfortune to have been going to get more punch. Hermione giggled slightly as Flitwick tried in vain - yet again - to step a little closer to the table of refreshments.

"Having fun?" a voice sounded in her ear, and Hermione jumped. She turned sharply to find a twin - she was too tired to bother to focus and tell them apart - standing behind her. The twins had followed Mrs. Weasley's warning to the letter, and had been on perfect behaviour all evening. Instead of pulling pranks, however, they had dressed exactly alike, causing quite a bit of confusion.

"It certainly is a lovely party," Hermione said.

"Yes," said the twin, "But are you having _fun_?"

Hermione was about to answer, but found herself yawning instead. She grinned sheepishly. "I may be just a little bit tired"

"See, that's not fun!" the twin said, his eyes glinting mischievously, "What you need is a-"

But Hermione never found out what she needed, because at that moment Mrs. Weasley tapped her wine glass with a spoon, calling the room to silence.

"I would like to make a toast," she said, "I have watched Harry grow up, and come to love him as if he were one of my own. It brings me great joy that he will soon become an actual member of the family. I look forward to spending many holidays and birthdays with him - and his children - in the future. To Harry and Ginny!"

"Harry and Ginny!" everyone said. Harry's face had turned bright red at the last bit of Mrs. Weasley's toast, and he downed his glass of wine in one gulp. Ginny laughed a little and patted his arm.

Someone put some music on, and soon couples were out on the floor dancing.

"Would you look at that?" the twin standing next to Hermione said, pointing. Hermione looked over to see Remus Lupin dancing an odd sort of waltz with Tonks. Tonks looked like she was having the time of her life; Lupin looked like he was simply trying not to have his feet stomped on. Hermione laughed.

"I think that _that_" she said, pointing a little further to the left, "Is much funnier."

Whichever twin she was talking to smirked as he saw Luna and Ron dancing together. Or rather, Luna was dancing, waving her arms about and shaking her hips, and Ron was watching bemusedly, a small smile on his face.

Hermione and her companion had just started laughing at Hagrid trying to dance with Professor McGonagall, when Mrs. Weasley suddenly appeared.

"Why aren't you out there?" she asked. "Go on, George, dance with Hermione! Just because Katie isn't here doesn't mean you can't dance." Mrs. Weasley shoved them towards the group of people. "Go!"

George took Hermione's hand, leading her out into the crowd. "Well, if Mum says so..." He stopped suddenly and pulled her into his arms, his feet moving in a complicated pattern in time with the music.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "You know how to waltz?"

George grinned. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I- I don't know. I guess I just didn't think you would."

"Well," George said, dipping Hermione down, "This proves you wrong, then. Who would've thought it, Hermione Granger finally proven wrong by a Weasley twin?"

Hermione laughed as they spun in circles, dancing around the other guests. After a couple of fast songs, a slower one came on, and Hermione found George pulling her closer. Her arms automatically went around his neck as his slid to her waist. _This feels nice_, Hermione thought. _Comfortable_. _I wonder..._

"You didn't finish what you were saying, earlier," she said.

George looked down at her. "Hmm?" he said absentmindedly.

"Earlier. When you asked if I was having fun and I said I was tired. You were about to say I needed - something - and then Mrs. Weasley made that toast."

"Ah." George grinned. "Well are you having fun?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Well then," George said, "You don't need what I was going to say you needed, so I don't need to tell you."

Hermione stuck out her tongue. "Tell me anyway," she said.

A look crossed George's face. "How about I show you instead?"

Hermione nodded, looking into his eyes. She was vaguely aware that they were swaying slowly to the music, vaguely aware that they were standing so close their bodies were nearly touching. She looked into George's eyes as he leaned in, and a niggling thought formed in the back of her mind.

George's lips touched hers in a soft, chaste kiss and Hermione melted. He drew back and smiled softly before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"What you needed," he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer to him, "Was a kiss."

At the feel of George's lips touching her ear, Hermione suddenly realized what she should have known all along.

"You're Fred," she said softly, pulling back to look at him. "You're not George. You're Fred."

Fred stilled, stopping their swaying. Just as Hermione was about to reassure him that it was perfectly fine - that she was actually _glad_ he was Fred - the song ended. Fred kissed her hand and quickly left the dance floor.

Hermione stood for a few seconds, not quite comprehending what had happened. _Fred Weasley kissed me_, she thought. _He kissed me and I was _glad _that he wasn't George. And I wanted to kiss him again._ Hermione left the dancing couples and wandered through the party, searching for Fred. As many of the guests were relatives of the Weasleys, however, Fred's defining feature - his hair - blended in perfectly with the crowd.

Finally Hermione gave up her search, instead sitting down with a bottle of butterbeer and watching the party. She was almost through the whole bottle when Ginny came and sat down.

"Hey."

Hermione smiled. "Hey."

"You should go dance; enjoy yourself," Ginny said, bumping Hermione's shoulder with her own. "You looked like you were having fun earlier."

"I was," Hermione replied, "But I think I'm just going to rest now."

"Are you sure? I'm sure Charlie would dance with you if you asked. I saw him over here earlier, but it looks like he's disappeared...come to think of it, he's been avoiding being near you all night." Ginny's tone turned suspicious. "Is something going on?"

Hermione laughed a little. "Fred dared me to seduce Charlie the last time Charlie visited. So I did."

Ginny's eyes grew wide and she broke into giggles, stifling them with her hand. "You...Charlie...Seduce..." She finally gave in and bent over double, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder for support. "Oh, Merlin, that's perfect! You and Charlie!" Ginny said, before bursting into laughter again.

Hermione smiled. "Shush, Gin. Anyway, Fred walked in to make sure I was doing the dare, and it was really embarrassing. I think I upset him a little."

Ginny finally stopped laughing, wiping her eyes with her wrists. "Well, knowing Fred, he'll not show it if you did. He'll just carry on smiling like always. Say, you were dancing with him earlier, weren't you? Or was that George? They look too much alike tonight."

Hermione shook her head, smile fading a little. "No, that was Fred."

"Well do you know why he went inside so early? He promised he'd show Neville some of the new breeds of plants he and George are working on..."

_Fred went inside?_ Hermione stood and made her way towards the back door of the Burrow, ignoring Ginny's calls behind her.

* * *

Fred sat on his bed, head in his hands. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn't have pretended I was George - no, I shouldn't have _kissed_ her, _that's _what I should'nt have done. Stupid!_ Fred's fist shot out and hit the wall. _Why did I have to go and do that? She probably only let me kiss her because George already has a girlfriend; a little kiss from him wouldn't mean anything. _He got up and paced the room, running his hands through his hair.

_What do I say? I'm going to see her tomorrow...No, no, I don't _have _to see her tomorrow. I can just...avoid her, until we get the flat fixed and move out of the Burrow. Yeah, that's it._ _But Merlin, her lips are so soft...No. Stop it, Fred. Don't think of that._

Fred flopped back down on the bed, arms covering his eyes. _Bloody hell, this is too much to think about._ _I need to get some air_. With a sharp _crack_, he Disapparated.

* * *

Hermione cautiously made her way up the stairs. _What am I going to do when I see him? What am I going to say? Hi, Fred, I followed you from the party because I think I have feelings for you and I want you to kiss me again? Yeah, _that_ will sound good. _She stopped outside the twins' room and knocked on the door. No one answered. Hermione knocked again, a little harder. Still, no answer.

_Well, here goes me making a fool of myself_, she thought, and opened the door.

Fred wasn't there.

Hermione walked over to Fred's bed; he hadn't bothered to make it and the blankets were all twisted. Hermione smoothed away a few of the wrinkles out of habit and was surprised to find that the sheets were still somewhat warm. _He must have gone back to the party right before I came in the house. Should I go look for him?_ Hermione sat down on the bed. _No, I'll just stay here and wait until he comes back. I don't much feel in the mood for a party now, anyway._ She yawned. _Merlin, I'm tired..._

Within a few minutes, Hermione had fallen asleep.

* * *

"Hermione?"

Hermione blearily opened her eyes at the sound of a man's voice calling her name. _What time is it?_ she thought sleepily. _It certainly isn't time for work_. _Why are the walls red? My walls aren't red..._

Hermione sat up quickly. _I'm in the twins' room._

Fred was standing over her, an apprehensive look on his face. "Hermione? Are you ok?"

Hermione hastily stood, smoothing her dress and trying to style her hair. "Yes," she said in a voice that was a tad bit higher than normal. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Ok," Fred said. Silence descended, and they stood, awkwardly looking everywhere but each other.

Hermione took a deep breath. _He's here. I should say what I came to say._ "Fred?"

"Hmm?" Fred said, looking up from where he had been intently studying the floor.

"About tonight, I just wanted to say..." Hermione faltered, looking for the right words.

_Here it comes_, Fred thought. _She's going to say that it was nice and all, and she appreciated it, but that she's always thought of me as Ron's brother. That I'm family, and family don't date, let alone kiss._

"Well, I wanted to say that..." Hermione trailed off again. "Ohhhh, how do I phrase this?"

"It's ok," Fred said, "You don't have to say it."

"Yes, Fred, I _do_. I wanted to say that...that...Oh, damn it all!" Hermione grabbed Fred's neck and brought his head down for a kiss. He hesitated a second, and then suddenly one arm was around Hermione's waist, the other tangled in her hair. Hermione pressed herself as close to him as she could get, needing to feel Fred's body against hers. Her tongue explored his mouth and he moaned.

Slowly the kiss turned gentler, sweeter. After what seemed like hours Fred pulled away, cupping Hermione's face in his hands and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I think I understand what you wanted to say," he said.

"Good," whispered Hermione, and pulled him to her again.


End file.
